


Opposites

by moth2fic



Category: The Line of Beauty
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-21
Updated: 2007-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-11 04:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moth2fic/pseuds/moth2fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Attraction is not always towards the right person or at the right time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opposites

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed the book then was fascinated by the transition to TV series and wondered what a stage production would be like. My subconscious then came up with this flashfic. As I am using original characters and they in turn refer to the ones from the book and screen this is only marginally fanfic and does not infringe anyone's rights!

 

 

Watching the BBC series based on Hollinghurst’s ‘The Line of Beauty’, they’d known at once that it was the ideal subject for their end of year production. All the third year drama students loved it. Some liked the way a gay tragedy had gone mainstream almost in advance of Brokeback Mountain. Some liked the subtle but provocative exploration of English politics. Some liked the strong, quirky character studies. (Quite a lot just liked the actors).

 

So Carrie worked on a script that would work on the stage, and then had one of her panics. It was left to Kate to contact the BBC and clear the performance with them; it probably helped that the only people likely to see it were other students, fairly ‘arty’ ones, at that, and that entrance was free. Carrie heaved a sigh of relief. After all, they all hoped that some of the TV casting people would come. That was the fundamental reason for the tradition in the first place.

 

Carrie said the devil had been in their own casting meeting because Toby was played by Gerald and Gerald by Toby, which gave plenty of room for confusion, especially on the part of the producer, whilst Catherine was played by Kate and everyone had a tendency to call her Kate on stage, which would not, Carrie kept pointing out, do.

 

There were smothered giggles at the fact that arrow-straight Toby was being played by a guy who went straight from rehearsals to Canal Street, and one or two sniggers at Leo being played by Leighton, who said he would put aside his Baptist principles for the sake of his art and that it was probably OK because none of his family or friends would darken the doors of a theatre anyway, and already thought he was damned, just for acting.

 

Sam just felt wildly fortunate to have landed the part of Nick. He’d never be offstage but it was only a three night run and he could collapse afterwards. He felt doubly fortunate to be playing opposite Gil as Wani. The end of term and of their time at uni was all too near. He had adored Gil since freshers’ week, three years ago. He still knew little or nothing about him but could at least be quite close to his idol for the duration of the rehearsals and play. He felt uplifted.

 

Gil was an enigma. Tall, slim, dark, with the grace and beauty of his partly Lebanese heritage, he fitted the description of part-Lebanese Wani perfectly. There was even the oddity of his name; nobody knew what Gil stood for - Giles, Gilbert, or maybe something French? Even Arabic names held possibilities although Gil’s family were Lebanese Christians and his mother was as English as Carrie or Kate. They knew that much. But the mystery of his name resonated with the mystery of Wani’s name, which only turned out to be a childhood effort at Antoine quite late in the story.

 

Sam, looking in the mirror at his own pink cheeks and mouse-brown hair, the epitome of Anglo-Saxon freshness and solidity, sighed. He admired Gil. He would also like to be like Gil, exuding romance and middle eastern promise. Or something.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the others come into the cloakroom that served as a dressing room for male members of the cast. The constant unannounced invasions by costume or make-up had led to an unspoken agreement not to use the urinals for the duration, which meant the queue for the cubicles was as bad as the one the girls always complained of, and also that he couldn’t sneak a look at Gil. However, he got some pleasure from the crowded conditions.

 

Gerald raised perfectly groomed eyebrows.

 

“You’re early, darling,” he said. Sam wasn’t sure whether he was practising for the West End, or alluding to having seen him, Sam, in Canal Street on Saturday night. He hoped Gil would think Gerald called everybody ‘darling’. He gave what he hoped was an inscrutable smile and backed away to let Leighton use the mirror. He still felt uncomfortable about the sex scenes with Leighton and wondered if the audience would feel hostile vibes across the footlights.

 

Having been first to arrive, he was first to be ready and stood watching the others change.While Ruth, a very earnest make-up artist, tried her best to alter Gil’s perfection for a perfection that would show up under spotlights, Sam wondered again about Gil’s sexuality; no-one he knew had ever seen him with anyone. It was too much to hope... And yet all that wanton beauty was too good to waste...

 

Gerald was ready now, and standing beside him, speaking in a whisper, a real whisper, not a stage one.

 

“Saw our Mediterranean lovely in town on Sunday.” Sensing he had Sam’s attention he went on, “Wrapped round a bit of rough outside the pub on the corner of The Street.” His whisper capitalised the location. “Sharing a joint, too, by the look of them.” Sam swallowed. So his fantasies had some basis? He could dream without feeling crazy?

 

Then he thought again. How much of Wani was there in Gil? The looks, the name, the mannerisms that hardly demanded any acting on the young man’s part - those were a given. What about the rest? Was Gil as careless of his own safety as Wani? ‘Rough’ and ‘joint’ hovered in the air and left with them for the wings.

 

Sam, everything Nick was not, worked hard getting into the character of someone who took risks, drugs and unprotected sex for granted. His love of the world was as unconditional as Nick’s but he lived in a time when he could ensure by his own choices that his love could live and grow old.

 

Gil would remain in his memory, intertwined with the course and the production. Then he would fade. It was safer that way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
